


no such thing as heroes

by angelcult



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Autistic Jeremy Heere, Dialogue Heavy, Hurt No Comfort, I am so sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Possibly Unrequited Love, this was supposed to have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 02:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/angelcult
Summary: Rich only wants to know peace, Jeremy wants to give him peace and they wonder if there is even a such thing as a world where it exists.





	no such thing as heroes

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty dialogue heavy, but there’s also heavy talk of abuse and some mentions of drinking.

Rich decidedly hated assemblies of any sort. 

After everything that had happened, they now had them almost monthly for different reasons every time. Last month had been drug use, the month before that had been bullying, now it was about  _ abuse,  _ which made Rich all the more uncomfortable. 

The man leading the assembly looked nothing like the sort of person Rich would associate with talking about such a serious subject. He wore a black shirt that read “protect trans kids” in bold font, a beanie and an amassing of bracelets. His hair was wild and curly, freckles covering his face and some even dotted his neck. 

His eyes were a striking shade of green, surrounded by long eyelashes that Rich almost confused for makeup.

“Hey, y’all,” He had an accent, a Southern drawl that was almost refreshing to hear, and a sort of lazy way of speaking. “My name’s John Laurens and it’s a real pleasure to meet you all. I’ll jump right in and you can all ask questions if you have any. For starters, I’m a pediatrician, which means I work with children most days. This also means that I see a lot of cases of abuse on the job.”

As he spoke, Rich felt small. Jake was asleep beside him, and he didn’t know where Jeremy and Michael were although he’d seen them during breakfast and in the halls. 

Jeremy was the only one who truly knew about Rich’s relationship with his father, and it was a well-kept secret between them. Everyone else assumed that Rich’s father just didn’t mind what he did, but every action of his had a consequence.

He tried not to think about it too often. 

“Abuse isn’t always physical. It can be emotional, or mental, but it is still abuse. It’s just as real and just as valid as any other type of abuse. It’s just as  _ severe. _ Part of coming up here means that I have to get pretty personal with you guys, and it’s pretty awkward sometimes but, here we are.” 

That got a small laugh from the crowd of teens and a few of the teachers sent an encouraging smile in the man’s direction.

“I used to get abused by my dad, physically and emotionally. My mother died when I was pretty young, so it was just me, him, my sister and my brother. When I was younger, my baby brother, James, died.” 

A hush fell over the crowd, and it was awkward, and teens that were usually callous towards things like assemblies and the people leading them but none of them could argue against this man who seemed to fit into their crowd with his looks and his shy smile.

“My father blamed me for it, and thus began nine years of torment. There’s a lot that can go on, and no one ever knows. My friends didn’t know because I hid it real well. People can hide their abuse so well, you’d never suspect that your closest friend can be going through some, and pardon my language, absolutely  _ terrible  _ shit. I had to get personal with you all, because that’s the best way to get a point across. Statistics and numbers are terrifying in quantity, but lacking in that emotion that only experience can show. Abuse changes a person. It makes them quiet, timid, and sad,”

Rich sucked his teeth, he was more than used to the type of abuse survivors portrayed in media. It was disappointing to him, but he should have known that-

“Or it can make them pissed and volatile.”

_ Oh. _

“I was the latter. I got so angry that I lashed out. I hurt people that I care about, I hurt myself, I’ve hurt strangers. It’s a terrible thing to be hurt so much that you only know how to hurt others in return.”

Rich wouldn’t cry about it, but his eyes misted over despite his wants. He’d never heard anyone say it before, he’d never felt like his emotions had any standing because he wasn’t  _ timid _ , he wasn’t  _ shy,  _ he was just so fucking  ** _pissed._ **

His hands clenched in his lap, and Laurens kept speaking, his voice clear as a bell as the entire auditorium listened to him.

“Speaking up about this is one of the hardest things you can ever do. It’s painful, it’s scary but I promise it’s relieving to not have to carry that weight yourself. One thing I must say, however, is that if someone is being abused, whether by a parent or a spouse, don’t yell at them. Don’t get angry, don’t ask why they didn’t tell you, there’s a whole list of what you shouldn’t do but the thing I will say is it the top of that list, is don’t leave them. 

They may seem to be withdrawing from you, but it isn’t your fault. Abusers are manipulative, they can be so nasty to get what they want but don’t ever second guess that whoever that person you’re trying to keep safe is, doesn’t love you.”

One of the students raised their hand, and Laurens looked at them, nodding for them to speak. While Rich couldn’t hear the question, the man obviously did and he smiled a little.

“Is recovery hard? Yeah, it’s a long road. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after finally getting away from my dad and getting the professional help that I needed, it’s uh, it’s hard. To let down the walls you built to protect yourself, it was so hard for me even open up to my husband about the extent of everything that had happened with my dad.”

Rich had so many questions, they burned at his throat and made his face feel flush, because he wanted to ask, he wanted to know, wanted to feel  _ real,  _ but there were so many students and he didn’t want anyone besides Jeremy to know.

Besides, what would happen if he told this man? Would that get his father arrested, would Rich have to be sent away? 

“Ah, yes, another question, what’s up?”

“If you know someone who’s being a-abused but they don’t want to tell anyone.. and you’re the only one who knows.. What.. what do you do?”

Rich paused, the thoughts dying down as he heard Jeremy’s stutter, could practically imagine his irritated hand-flapping at his stuttering. 

“When you’re the only one who knows, there’s a set of guidelines that come with it. Number one, is there a  _ safety plan?  _ If you do decide to do something like call the police without their knowledge, you can put them in serious danger, especially if they live with their abuser. Number two, there may not be any way for them to talk to the police if they aren’t in the position to do it. Especially,  _ especially,  _ if the person who abuses them is present. If the person is a minor, they can be temporarily removed from the home while the abuser is being questioned but, and don’t let CPS know that I said this, the system for child abuse is.. It’s fickle. They can be returned to their abusive caretaker and it’s uh,” Laurens tripped up a little, Rich thought he saw him wipe tears from his eyes.

“It’s rough. It’s very dangerous, because police and social services occasionally won’t believe the victim, especially if they downplayed their abuse before.”

Rich could practically see Jeremy’s sad eyes, he knew that he’d been the reason for that question and he burned with guilt.

The rest of the assembly passed in a blur.

  
  


As he packed his things, Laurens noted a boy nervously attempting to ask him for something. It was the boy from earlier, he had a necklace on with soft-looking gemstones, a blue cardigan and a striped sweater. 

He was nervous, twisting his hands and occasionally bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

Laurens has expected at least one person to ask him a question after the assembly.

“A-about the question I asked earlier,” Laurens nodded to show that he remembered and the boy bit his lip nervously. “It was personal, obviously, but is there really.. Is there actually nothing I can do?”

Laurens felt a part of his heart break, watching as guilt filled his blue eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Jeremy.”

“Okay, Jeremy.. I wish there was more I could do to help. It’s hard, with abuse, to always know how to help. I know you probably want to remove your friend from the situation as soon as possible, but there are so many loopholes and laws in place that make that hard.”

Jeremy bit his lip, twisting his hands together and nodding, keeping his eyes on the floor because he didn’t want Laurens to see him crying, he already felt his eyes misting up. 

“It isn’t your fault, I think I need to say that. If something happens, please do not blame yourself. It isn’t your fault and it isn’t your friend’s fault. I don’t want to repeat what I said earlier because I know it won’t help, but I think telling you this will.”

Jeremy wiped his eyes, and while he wasn’t crying, he knew that if Laurens continued to speak, he would.

“I don’t want to make this about me, I’m just worried about my friend.”

“Jeremy, part of being able to help your friend is to be able to help yourself too.”

The boy nodded, hands curling tightly around the sleeves of his sweater. 

“Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, uh.. Thanks for talking with me, and telling me that stuff earlier.”

Laurens smiled, but his heart hurt, he couldn’t help. 

“Of course.”

  
  
  


Michael drove Rich home and then as he Jeremy drove to his house. They sat in silence until Jeremy spoke up.

“You know.. I.. I know you don’t know why I asked that question earlier or why I won’t tell you who, but I-“

“I get it, Jeremy. That’s a really personal thing, especially if it isn’t your story to tell. I’m happy that you aren’t telling me because you’re an absolutely amazing friend, but it hurts me to see you beating yourself up over it.”

Jeremy shrugged, chewing on the cord of his necklace. “I.. I know. I just want to help, and I can’t.”

The tears started then, so many that he stopped trying to wipe them away. 

“I feel so useless.”

Laurens words rang in his ear, but they were drowned out as he cried.

He wanted to help Rich, he didn’t want him anywhere near his father, he wanted Rich’s father  _ in jail,  _ but there was nothing he could do but hope and hope and hope.

  
  
  


Rich’s father was asleep when Michael dropped him off, surprisingly. He stayed quiet and crept around him, the strong and cloying smell of the beer he drank permeated the air.

There was a constant fear of error when his father was around, he was scared of being hit, of his father hurting him much worse than he could handle. 

He tried not to think of that possibility often, but it got harder and harder every passing day, with every screaming match, every hit, every swig of beer, he felt himself become worse and worse for the wear. 

He wished that the world worked like it did in all that fanfiction that Michael and Jeremy read, where the love interest swooped in to save the day. Jeremy and Michael would be the starry eyed heroes of Rich’s story, but they weren’t.

They weren’t heroes, this wasn’t a story, Rich was still locking his bedroom door to keep his father out, the three of them would never be in love, things like that were simply the things of stories. 

Rich wished he could get a happy ending, he wished, he wished, he  _ wished.  _


End file.
